A Thousand Years
by Myrielle
Summary: Eru's song is done and the worlds have been unmade and remade. Now Legolas comes for the one he has loved for a thousand years.


_Disclaimer: Not written for profit, don't own any of the characters. _

_Summary: Eru's song is done and the worlds have been unmade and remade. Now Legolas comes for the one he has loved for a thousand years._

_Pairing: Legolas/OC_

**A Thousand Years**

_Every breath, every hour has come to this._

_One step closer_

_I have died everyday waiting for you_

_Darling don't be afraid_

_I have loved you for a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more _

_-christina perri_

Legolas pants, bloodied, bruised but illuminated by the glory of a Being that the Valar bow down to. They begin to sing, and the song is everywhere, in everything. Sword and shield are lowered, axes rest on the grass which is changing before his eyes. Power, like nothing he has ever lived through, not even in the presence of Nenya or Vilya, flows through him and he sees the elves around him similarly enraptured. This is the heart of hearts, the beginning in the end and he is helpless before it. And for once in his long life, he feels no darkness. It has been completely cast out, vanquished and there will be no more tears, no more sorrow. For an elf, it means to finally stop ageing inside, and that he welcomes more than anything.

His feet seem to lift from the ground and all around, there is light, light to drown the world, to fill his being and he knows he is being changed. Joy suffuses him and he sees elves, legends to whom he, held as ancient to men, is but a spark in time, caught up in the air as he is, their eyes shining with a radiance they have only begun to live in. And he closes his eyes, breathes in the change and prays. The words are the same, the thoughts as fervent as when they were first conceived and now he is close, so close to the One who could make it all possible. He has hoped for a thousand years and would hope for a thousand more. She has never faded, she is always there, a lingering presence and he has awakened countless times from deep reverie with an ache so sharp it is physical, when he feels the emptiness of his arms. In times like those, it is this hope, the promise they made before she slipped from him into the Gift of Men, taken beyond the circles of Arda into the unknown.

_Please, let it be possible. Let it be now. _Within, Legolas feels his heart bursting and he cries out, glittering in a sun that will never fade. Then, all is white and he is swept away, taken and spun, woven into and of this new world to come.

The world has changed. She stands on a hill, beneath the only golden tree in this world. It is the only place which makes her dream and in those dreams she sees echoes of a time that may or may not have happened. But because she has always loved stories, she comes here again and again. Beyond the hills, the gently rolling greens where there ought to be a crystal blue sea and a never setting sun, she sees white lands and on a clear day, she can make out faint mountain peaks in the great distance.

Maybe one day she will go there. Her friends have yet to see this though. The healer would want to travel and wherever he went, his wife, loveliest of all the stars here, would follow. She thinks to turn around, to find them and changes her mind. There is something on the wind and in her heart, she thinks she will wait. Golden leaves bear down, magnifying the glow of a sun that is now larger, brighter and to her amazement, this same sun gives light to those distant shores.

For a whole day and night she keeps her vigil. Though she is at peace, something like expectancy holds her gently in its grip and she cannot, she must not move from this place. Something will happen soon.

Out of the green, from the white country he appears and although she has watched the grey ship with its pristine sails, her heart does not slow but it quickens. She rises to her feet, eyes unflinching even when she steps beyond the shade of the ancient tree. The root of the knowledge eludes her and she must ask him how it is that she, who does not remember his face, has been waiting for him. It is sudden, the realization that she always has been.

Something greater than him guides his feet, led him to build the ship, the second in his lifetime, when he saw the distant green hills and knew she would be there. Two worlds became one and the circles of each world have been loosed, never again to exist separately. And Legolas, who has journeyed much and many times in his previous life, makes a final journey, a promised one.

He sees her and wonders why she does not come to him. But she waits and he contents himself with that as he crosses the hills. There is no time, only a closing distance and he thinks, he feels himself in a dream save for the knowledge that it is not and they will never end, not this time. The joy is so great it hurts.

She does not remember him, not fully. His anxious hands he forces to his sides, his feet stop close enough to her. He does not know the mystery of the Gift of Men but he can see it has changed her. Now, they are the same, the old bodies shed away and they must also start anew. Why is it that he is the only one with the memories? This moment has been envisioned, imagined, crafted in the deepest reveries he has had by day and night and now he does not know what will happen.

"I have been waiting," she suddenly blurts out. "I can't remember your name."

"There is no elvish medicine for that, I fear." Legolas holds his breath and thinks his heart will break if she does not remember that. Her eyes crinkle in slight puzzlement and search his, just as his gaze searches her. He does not find what he looks for, no glimmer of recognition but the next best gift is there: acceptance.

"Did I say that often?"

"All the time, for everything," he replies, his voice low and thick with the memories of past lives.

With startling swiftness, she takes his hand. Turning his palm over, she traces the line and lifts a brow, looking at him from beneath her lashes. A thousand years have led to this moment and he wants to weep with happiness at the warmth of her flesh on his. But he has to wait else it might be too much for her. Again, she surprises him when she threads their fingers together, and they stand, palm to palm.

"You will have to tell me everything," she says simply and smiles. "You are my heart." The words come from a place inside that has been waiting to open and now he is here and though she does not remember, she knows. So she lets him hold her, listens to the soft musical language of his tongue which she dreamed of beneath golden boughs. So he is the mystery.

"Walk with me," he murmurs into her hair and feels her smile thrill in his being. "We will find out all we need to, together." Legolas pulls away, traces her face delicately with his fingers.

She thinks to herself that they have lived, loved, died and now have found each other again. It is an astounding thought, as she has always believed this is the only life she has ever known. It is a thought that can wait.

He pulls her further out into the light and now the wind echoes with his laughter and his joy spills into her heart and the land beyond. It can wait for the most important thing has come and they are now complete.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Based on Tolkien's notion of the Final Battle and my own conjectures about what happens to the world/s. And of course, written loosely based on Christina Perri's "A Thousand Years".


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